Blackberries
by TheDevilsDuchess
Summary: OneShot: No one knows that John loves blackberries, well except for Sherlock


**Erin:** This is my first Sherlock fanfiction. I have recently become obsessed with the show reading a couple hundred fics. This came to me while I was drinking a blackberry smoothie it's completely random but I hope this brightens your day.

Disclaimer – I do not own Sherlock. If I did there wouldn't be such a damn long wait between seasons!

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Blackberries

John loves blackberries. It's not a common fact mind you but he does. Blackberry jam, blackberry smoothies, blackberry syrup, blackberry candy, blackberry ice cream, and let's not forget the fruit themselves. He always spent a little extra money on the fruit so he could get the good stuff. He could eat an entire container in one sitting. His love of the fruit is not something you'd notice. He didn't go out of his way to get them but when they where there he would buy them. And though almost no one knew this quirk about John Sherlock did. He noticed everything about his flatmate and best friend.

So that is why in the early morning Sherlock had stopped by the store on his way home to 221B Bakers street and picked up all of John's favorites. Being as quiet as possible he slipped into the flat and proceeded to make him the most incredible breakfast possible. He wanted to soften the blow to John and his own face when John came downstairs in the morning to find Sherlock very much alive.

It had been three years since his "death" and he finally returned home.

He knew how John would feel. Angry, hurt, betrayed, happy, thankful, all conflicting emotions making John's reaction a bit unpredictable. He might punch him, which he probably would, or hug him, which Sherlock would allow for once, or he might storm out, which Sherlock hoped would not happen. Anything could happen and he hated that for once he couldn't predicted the most likely scenario so instead he made him blackberry everything in hopes of at least allowing Sherlock time to explain.

Sherlock had just finished making the coffee pouring it into a mug when he heard the creaking of the floorboards signaling John had awoken. Standing there unable to do anything else he waited, for the first time in his life anxiously, as he listened to the stairs creak counting down the seconds until John's appearance.

…

John rubbed his eyes yawning. Did he smell coffee? No, he shook his head. He just really wanted a cup of Joe. It was only him in the flat and Mrs. Hudson didn't ever make him coffee only tea and never this early. Dragging himself into the kitchen he stretched out his muscles and was about to make coffee when suddenly he froze.

Standing before him was none other than Sherlock Holmes. Not only was he standing in his kitchen on the table in front of him was a mountain of food. Of blackberry based food. John ignored this. Though it looked delicious and amazing that was nothing compared to the fact that a dead man was standing no more than three feet in front of him.

At first John thought he was still asleep so he pinched himself but winced in pain when he realized that he was in fact not asleep. Next he decided he was hallucinating which was wonderful, just wonderful. He had thought he had been doing so well recently. Apparently not.

…

Sherlock watched John intently studying everything about him. He held his tongue waiting for him to process everything. John's first reaction was that he was still asleep and Sherlock waited until he realized this was not so. Then he thought he had gone mad, which was not surprising. A dead man in your kitchen, anyone in their right mind would think they've lost it.

Sherlock couldn't hold his tongue anymore, "No John you have not gone mad."

With those words it snapped John out of his head. No, no he was not mad. That only left one possible solution, he had faked his death and he didn't have the common decency to tell him his _best friend_!

John internally cursed himself for not figuring it out sooner. Sherlock would have never said those things on the rooftop not even if he really was going to kill himself. No, not _his_ Sherlock. Those where the words of a Sherlock who wanted him to stop chasing him, to forget about him, to bloody _move on with his life_!

"You where never going to figure it out. That was the point," Sherlock read his mind.

John missed that and for an instant his anger was gone. But then it came back full force. John clenched his fist. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to hurt Sherlock as much as Sherlock had hurt him. Than his eyes fell on the kitchen table. Belgian waffle with blackberry syrup, whip cream, and blackberries all drizzled on top. Stuffed blackberry French toast with whip cream, more blackberry syrup, and blackberries. Then there was toast with blackberry jam and blackberry juice, the good stuff not that crap John hated. There was even blackberry ice cream and a blackberry smoothie plus random bags of all different blackberry type candies. Also there was an extremely large bowl of blackberries at least four tubs worth. It must have taken hours to prepare all this.

His fist unclenched and his anger faded into relief. Sherlock noticed his quirk, not surprising as Sherlock noticed everything. But Sherlock _remembered_, he didn't delete it. And Sherlock was alive, standing right before him.

Tears welled in his eyes as they fell back onto his best friend. He had asked him for one more miracle and he did it. He came back. He didn't have to but he did. John didn't care what his reaction would be instead he grabbed a hold of the taller man pulling him into a tight hug. Who cared if it looked bad? John would trade looking gay to have him back.

Sherlock stiffened at first. He didn't really do this type of thing. Hugs weren't him, but for John he forced himself to relax hugging the man back. Sherlock found he rather liked hugs or maybe he just liked hugs coming from John. That was more probable.

Sherlock rested his chin upon his head listening to the man's mumblings, "You're a bastard. You could have at least told me. Made me watch you die. I hate you."

Sherlock's lips shifted up. "I know. I'm sorry."

John breathed in a shaky breath before pulling away. "You went to all this trouble we shouldn't let the food get cold." He moved to sit down. Sherlock lit up as relief swept through him. John had forgiven him. He sat down beside him. "You know not to sound ungrateful or anything but you went a bit over board. There is no way we can eat all this food."

"That's what we have a refrigerator for," Sherlock stated in his "obviously" tone.

John laughed wiping away the tears. "Yeah you're right as always." He took a sip of his coffee. "What? Is this blackberry creamer?"

"Oh course," Sherlock scoffed. He had a theme going on after all.

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**Erin:** So what do you think? Did I keep them in character well? Did I brighten your day from the depression of The Reichenbach Fall? Please review it is what I live for!


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